


Fly in the Ointment

by blondeweasel



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-15 16:01:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2234964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blondeweasel/pseuds/blondeweasel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(noun): an inconvenience that detracts from the usefulness of something. Sherlock has always been aware of these human feelings and emotions and he's always tried to appear as if he was above such things, but he could never, as hard as he tried, get rid of them. She brought out the human in him and that put him at a dangerous disadvantage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story published on here. I like to think I'm not too rubbish at writing, but I guess this will be the true test. Any and all feedback is welcome, just try not to be too harsh, I really hate crying. Also, if I'm formatting wrong or anything, please let me know! I've never done this before. Oh and I'm not British, so please excuse any "American-ims" I might have overlooked. Thanks!

She knew it was risky, being so close by. She hadn't meant to end up working in London, but the job was amazing, and the pay was great too. Sustaining a life in London wasn't cheap. Plus, she's always liked the city, just enough people to slip by unnoticed. Being in the city didn't come without its dangers though. Although she had changed in the past 5 years, there's no doubt they would be able to recognize her if she wasn't careful. There are not many people who can fool the Holmes brothers, but she'd been known to do it before. It would take a lot of brains and cunning, but she did learn from the best. She'd managed for the past three months so far.

The double murder of the Patterson family was gruesome and thrilling. It was bloody and it was disturbing, but it was full of mystery and unconnected evidence just dying to be put together. That was not her job however. Her job was in questioning. She was to question any possible witnesses, relatives, or potential suspects about the case. Her boss had told her she was the best they'd ever had. That her ability to read people and tell if they were genuine or not, was borderline superhuman. She'd calmly and compassionately ask them questions, let them cry to her as she offered them tissues, and pat their arm gently when they got too upset, all the while condemning the guilty ones to jail with their fake tears. It's not that she didn't have any compassion. On the contrary, she'd been told numerous times that her compassion was bound to be her downfall someday. All the more reason to put those heartless bastards behind bars for the grief they caused everybody; real people whose lives had been shattered to pieces by crazed criminals seeking attention and fulfillment for their selfish desires. Her heart might be her downfall, but at least she'd be going down with a heart; better than the murderers could say.

The Patterson case found her questioning 9-year-old Sarah Patterson, the sole survivor of the brutal attack on her parents. A now orphaned child who had only survived by stuffing herself in a linen closet and witnessing the murder of her family. It didn't take a genius to see that the girl was traumatized and scarred for life most likely. But not many people would have noticed her fear of dogs, her preference for reading over computer games based on the ink stains on her hands, her talent with the piano, and her love of chocolate biscuits. Most wasn't relative to the case, but she can't pick and choose the details she sees.

Having successfully cross-examined the poor child, she left her with protective services and went to report to the boss.

"Alright, so, Sarah saw a lot, but she was too traumatized to speak a word. But she's a visual person so the details should be etched into her mind for some time. It's better to rely on the visuals, since her hearing would have been impaired by the barking of the neighbor's dog, awakening her fear of them and preoccupying her mind with it. I'd say give her a few days, then bring her back in and question her again," she said as she was closing her notebook. "Oh, and give her a book to look at when you talk to her. She's an avid reader and the visual stimulation from the book will bring her memories to the surface."

Once again her colleagues and her boss were giving her their bewildered and slightly awed looks. She knew what was coming next, but she wasn't in the mood to indulge them. She held up her hand to cut them off before they could start.

"Please don't ask how I got that. Just take the notes," she said, walking away to the squad car.

It was then that she saw him. Her breath caught in her throat causing her to cough violently, causing her to have to duck behind the car before he could look for the source of the noise. She peeked up through the car windows and saw him speaking to Lestrade and looking over the notes that she'd given him a minute ago. Then he walked inside. Crap! He'd probably recognize her handwriting. She had to act fast. She was just about to make a run for it when she crawled smack-dab into Lestrade's knees. She looked up into his confused expression and cringed.

"Andie, what are you doing down there?" he asked.

"Nothing sir, just think I dropped my glasses, that's all," she answered.

"You don't wear glasses…"

"Which would explain why I can't find them. Thank you sir," she smiled then turned to leave as quickly as possible.

He grabbed her arm before she could turn though and was guiding her over to the crime scene again.

"There's someone I want you to meet. He's brilliant, and I think you two would work well together," he said as they walked. "Ah, here he is now."

The man she saw earlier was just exiting the house, removing his gloves as she walked over to them. Pretty soon she was stopped in front of the man she'd been trying to avoid since she saw him walk up.

"Andrea Carson, meet Sherlock Holmes," Lestrade introduced, pushing her closer to the man. "He's the best detective we have, but don't go telling the others."

The tall dark haired man turned to greet her with a bored expression on his face. The expression didn't last long as she saw his mouth twitch into a frown and his eyes narrow a bit. It couldn't have been more than a few second, but she knew she'd been caught. She had to leave. Now!

She took advantage of his momentary confusion and muttered a panicked "pleasure," before high-tailing it away from the three men.

"Carson! Where are you going?" She heard Lestrade call after her.

"Sorry sir! Urgent business! I'll have the report by 8 tomorrow!" she yelled back.

Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, and Detective Lestrade stared after her looking puzzled.

"What did you say her name was?" Sherlock asked.

"Andrea Carson," Lestrade answered.

"No it's not," Sherlock replied.

"What? Her name is Andrea Carson and she's a brilliant young thing. She specializes in questioning. The things she can tell about people from just observing them when they talk to her. It's genius! Kind of reminds me of you, Sherlock. When you first started up," Lestrade said.

Sherlock continued to stare after Andrea looking pensive.

"Sherlock, are you alright?" John asked.

"Huh? Yes! Yes, I'm fine. Look, I have to be going. It's been a pleasure as always Lestrade," he says with a forced smile.

"Hey! What about the case?" Lestrade asked.

"Text me with any new information and I'll get back to you. I'm sure with Ms. Carson's notes I can come to some conclusion quick enough," Sherlock said turning his back on Lestrade. "Come along John!"

John and Lestrade exchanged confused looks and shrugged before John left to follow Sherlock.

"Sherlock! What the hell was that all about?" John asked, exasperated. "You were so excited for this case, now you're pushing it aside like it doesn't matter? What's wrong with you?"

"Shhhh!" Sherlock hushed John, creeping around the back of the houses. John didn't even bother asking, knowing that with Sherlock, there was no point.

After creeping into the alleyway behind the house, Sherlock reached into the shadows and took hold of something.

A slightly panicked "Damn it!" was heard from the shadow as Sherlock pulled Andie out to face him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sherlock asked menacingly.

"Sherlock, what's going on?" John asked.

"I'm sorry sir, I'm not sure what you mean," Andrea said to Sherlock, backing away.

He pulled her arm more roughly and growled again. "Don't play dumb with me Adelaide! Answer the question!"

She pulled her arm from his grasp and scowled at him. "Typical Holmes greeting. Scowling and threatening. Nice to see you too."

All she got in response was a more intense glare. "I should think it's obvious what I'm doing here Sherlock. I'm working a case."

"Is anybody going to tell me what's going on?" John asked, taking in the scene.

Adelaide turned to look at John and smiled politely. "Oh it's nothing sir, I was just leaving anyways. Go on back to your guys' flat and don't worry about me," she said.

Sherlock grabbed her arm again and started dragging her towards the street opposite them. She struggled in his grasp and kicked him in the leg while trying to squirm away.

"Sherlock, get off of me! Where are we going?" she yelled.

"We're going to see Mycroft, now let's go!"

"No! No, I'm not going to Mycroft! Why do we have to involve him in this? He's going to go ballistic!"

"As compared to how angry he'd be if he found out we didn't come?"

"Come on Sherlock, please! Not Mycroft!" she said trying to shake him off of her.

"Stop squirming Addie! Or I will put you over my shoulder and carry you," Sherlock threatened.

Addie heeded his warning and became more compliant, allowing him to drag her to the main road.

"I still don't know what's going on!" John yelled, stepping in front of their path.

Sherlock and Addie exchanged looks and sighed. John thought it creepily identical to one another.

"John, meet Adelaide. My little sister," Sherlock said.

"Your….sister? You have a sister? Why haven't I ever met her before? You never mentioned a sister."

"Well, that's because she's been dead for the past five years."

John looked much like a gaping cod-fish and by the time the taxi pulled up and they all climbed inside he still had his mouth open slightly.

The Holmes family never ceased to surprise him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter we start to see how the characters interact. If they are out of character, I'm sorry! I'd just like to think they'd act a bit different than normal in these types of circumstances. Hope you enjoy! :)

Chapter 2

To say the taxi ride to Mycroft's office was awkward would be an understatement. John was stuck in the middle of Sherlock and Adelaide, both staring out opposite directions of the cab with brooding faces. The tension was nearly suffocating so John decided to make conversation to ease it a bit. Never a good idea when the Holmeses were involved.

"So, Adelaide…" John began.

"I prefer Addie," she interrupted him, still staring out the window.

"Ok. So Addie, how long have you been in London?" he asked.

"Nearly 6 months. Working cases here and there to help pay the bills, doing some grunt work for Scotland Yard to scrape up a few extra pounds, and stop judging me Sherlock! I can hear you thinking!"

Sherlock gave a long suffering sigh and a roll of his eyes as a response. John looked awkwardly between the two of them.

"Alright, let's talk about something else then," John suggested. "I haven't properly introduced myself. My name is John Wat-"

"John Watson, early to mid-thirties, ex-army doctor, discharged from Afghanistan due to injury. Avid blogger and writer, and quite frankly desperate for human companionship based on the fact that you are flatmates with my brother," Addie said.

Sherlock shot her a scathing look and John unsuccessfully hid his smile.

John didn't even look surprised at her observations of him. "Guess I should have seen that coming," he commented. "How did you know we were flatmates though? Why not just friends?"

"Sherlock doesn't have friends. So, you're either romantically involved, which is possible, but unlikely since you don't seem the type, given the fact that fashion sense and hygiene are not high on your list of priorities. Or, by process of elimination, not a friend, not a lover, the next logical association is flatmate," Addie said, facing him.

"Wow, that's really quite good. Not sure whether to be offended or impressed," said John.

"Please John, don't go inflating her ego. We can't afford any more of that," Sherlock said.

"Right, because you've got enough for all of us," retorted Addie.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and looked sideways at her, a look John had come to know as trying to kill someone with his mind. Addie simply returned his look with a cheeky smirk before resuming staring out the cab window.

John really hoped they were nearly there.

Finally the cab pulled up to Mycroft's office and they exited. Sherlock kept a strong guiding arm on Addie's back, ready to catch her if she decided to run. Sherlock purposefully strode through security, not giving them a second glance when they asked for I.D. and badges. He silently stepped into the elevator and waited for John and Addie before pressing the button.

Pretty soon they were outside of Mycroft's office, currently being guarded by Anthea. The woman looked up from her phone briefly to see who it was before going back to texting. "Mr. Holmes is not inclined to see visitors today," she said.

"It's rather important ma'am. Maybe you could get him to give us a few moments of his time then-" John was cut off.

"Oh for god's sake," Sherlock said, pushing Anthea aside and bursting through the doors.

Mycroft was startled out of his work by the opening of the door, curious as to who had gotten by Anthea to gain access to his office. He rolled his eyes and went back to his work, not looking up as he addressed them.

"Sherlock, I'm rather busy today. I don't have time for your trivial matters when there are other matters of national importance that require my attention."

"Oh, I think you might find this a matter of extreme importance, dear brother," Sherlock said.

Mycroft sent him an annoyed glare but kept his eyes focused on him, telling him to continue. "I really don't see what could possibly be more important than…" he trailed off, his eyes growing larger and his mouth falling open.

Sherlock had moved aside, giving him a full view of the last person he ever expected to see walk through the doors of his office.

"Hi, Mykie…long time no see, eh?" Addie said hesitantly.

It was one of the rare times in Mycroft Holmes' life that he was well and truly at a loss for words.

 

* * *

 

It took a while for Mycroft to finally find his words.

"Wh…what…how…is this a joke?"

"Oh come on Mycroft, even I wouldn't be that cruel!" Sherlock said.

"But…" That was about as articulate as Mycroft was going to get for the time being, so Sherlock, with a dramatic sigh, decided to lay it all out for him.

"I was looking around the scene of the Patterson murder, great case by the way, thanks for the tip," Sherlock began.

Mycroft now looked even more confused, given that Sherlock had said "thanks," to him in a non-sarcastic and condescending way.

"Anyways, I was at the crime scene when Lestrade walked over, talking some nonsense about how I needed to meet someone and blah, blah, blah. I, as usual, tuned him out and nodded my head, not willing to listen to his inane babbling. When I look up next, I happen to see our dear little sister parading around as someone named…what was it John?"

John started slightly, under the impression that everyone had forgotten he was in the room. "Umm…" he opened his notepad. "Andrea Carson," he said.

"Oh yes, that's it. Andrea Carson. Professional interviewer, or whatever it's called. I can't be bothered to think of it now," Sherlock said, waving his hand away. "I realized it immediately of course, just played along to keep up appearances. Even more suspicious when Ms. Carson decided to run away and hide in the shadows behind the building. But, never fear, I extricated her from them and brought her here, against her wishes of course."

"He hurt my arm! I'll most likely have bruising within the next 24 hours," Addie said sulkily.

"You kicked my leg! Rather hard, I might add," Sherlock sulked back at her.

"An eye for an eye," Addie smirked at him.

Mycroft, having enough of this craziness in his office, raised his hand to stop the conversation. "Alright, alright, children, let's get back to the main point," he said. He looked towards Addie, giving her his famous raised eyebrow. "Care to explain, Adelaide?"

"Naw, not really in the mood for that right now. Let's get back to it later, yeah?"

The looks of pure venom she got made her sigh and roll her eyes. "Look, I can't…"

"How did you do it?" Sherlock asked.

"And why?" Mycroft added.

"I'm really not up to discussing this right now. Seriously. I'm not ready. Can we please just put it off?" she said, practically begging. "I'm really tired, and I would just like to go back to my flat, have a cuppa, and watch some crap telly."

"Oh so you're tired? Why are you so tired?" Sherlock asked, giving her a calculating look.

"Oh I don't know, maybe because I need more sleep, Sherlock, why else do people get tired?" she snapped at him.

"You're a Holmes. You've been wired to function on very little sleep. It would take a lot for you to be so tired. But why are you then?"

"Sherlock…" she warned.

"Perhaps it could be that you do sleep, but not well, considering whatever happened to you in the past five years has undoubtedly taken a toll on you. Or maybe it's the fact that you haven't been able to pay your bills in more than a month, and, on the rare occasions that you do sleep, you've had to sleep in the cold, causing discomfort, and making it difficult to achieve a satisfying rest," Sherlock rattled off.

Addie groaned, "Oh great, here we go."

"The lack of heat could also contribute to the cold she seems to be developing too. Given the roughness of her voice and the small sniffles she's been making," Mycroft added.

"Right you are dear brother. Also taking into account that she is thin and pale. Surely a sign of little sleep, lack of decent meals, and an unpleasant living situation," Sherlock said.

"Oh come on! That's not fair! You barely eat anything and you never sleep. Why all the attack on me?" Addie protested.

"Because, dear sister. I have the means to acquire sufficient sleep and meals if and when I need them. Which is more than you can say isn't it?" Sherlock said.

"I can take care of myself!" Addie yelled.

"Yes, of course you can. Which is why you will be moving in with John and Sherlock," Mycroft said with finality.

John, having been silently watching the sibling interaction with fascination, slipped back into reality at the mention of his name. "Now wait a minute, we…"

But he was cut off my two very loud and indignant shouts of "NO!"

"It's already been arranged with Mrs. Hudson. She informed me that there is an open flat next to yours. 221C I believe. Said she's never been able to rent it out for some reason or another. So I made an offer and got it all set up," Mycroft said, sitting back in his chair with a self-satisfied smile.

"How the hell did you do that so fast?" Addie asked, staring at him in awe. "You know what, I don't even want to know."

"And what if we refuse?" Sherlock challenged.

"You won't," Mycroft replied.

"And why not?" Addie asked.

Mycroft fixed them both with an intense glare before repeating, "Because you won't."

Sherlock and Addie huffed and looked away from him. "Good! Then it's all settled!" He said.

"Hardly!" shouted Addie. "In case you two haven't noticed, I'm not a child anymore, and you can't just order me around and tell me what to do with my life! It's my bloody life!"

Angry shouts of "Language!" resounded from the two brothers, then an unsettling silence.

"John, if you could please leave us for a bit. Go to the sitting room. Anthea will bring you some tea. I need to have a discussion with my siblings," Mycroft said, forcing a polite smile.

John couldn't have been more grateful to get out of such an awkward and tension filled situation and he high-tailed it to the sitting room. He accepted his tea from Anthea and silently began to wait out the discussion between the three Holmeses. He just sincerely hoped that this wouldn't end in an all-out war…literally…given Mycroft's position of power.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the review and the kudos! I didn't think anyone was interested in this, but now that I see people are, I'll keep posting what I have until people decide they don't like it anymore. Hope you enjoy! :)

Chapter 3

John was still sipping his now cold cup of tea. Thoroughly disgusted with it, but for lack of better things to do for the past half hour, he decided cold tea was better than being stuck in the storm that was occurring in Mycroft’s office. He heard many shouts, threats, and even some banging around. Clearly their discussion was not going well.  


Suddenly he heard a furious “piss off!” and Mycroft’s door opened and slammed shut, a furious Addie stormed out. He watched as she stomped to the loveseat opposite him and plopped herself down onto it forcefully. She was literally shaking and seething, her face turned away from his. John sat there awkwardly, not knowing quite what to do. Addie had stopped seething and was now shakily breathing, her sniffles and wiping of her eyes not lost on him.

“Are you ok?” he asked, thinking it would be rude not to express some concern.

“Fine!” she snapped.

“Ok then. Great.” He replied.

There was silence between them for another minute or so before Addie broke it.

“They keep asking me to explain it all to them. To tell them how I did it and where I’ve been. But I just can’t! They won’t understand!” she said.

John sat there quietly not knowing what to say.

“It’s just…all this has happened so fast. I’m not prepared for any of it. I need more time!” she said, her anger deflating, her posture taking on one of defeat and exhaustion. “Do you know what it’s like to carry something around with you for so long that it becomes this all-consuming part of your everyday life? Like your life, who you are, who you were, is defined by this one thing and you know your only chance of surviving it is to lock it away and try to deal with it yourself. Then someone comes along and asks you to just let it out; lay it all bare, as if it’s not something that has been consuming your day-to-day thoughts and actions. As if it can be fixed by sharing your feelings over a nice cuppa and some chocolate biscuits. Do have any idea what that’s like, Dr. Watson?” Addie asked.

There was a pregnant pause and a long exhale from John before he answered, his eyes transfixed on a spot on the carpet.

“Yes,” he answered. “I do.”

Addie’s head snapped up to look him in the eye before allowing an empathetic and understanding smile to cross her lips. John’s eyes looked up to catch hers and he returned the smile, feeling the locks on his heart loosen just a bit.

“So,” John started. “They still discussing in there?” he asked.

“Yes. Mycroft likes to give the appearance of a discussion, all the while forgetting that a discussion requires the input of the other party to be heard and considered,” Addie said exasperatedly. “I’m sure the discussion is ranging from Sherlock trying in vain to negotiate with Mycroft, and them sharing observations and ideas about how to get me to reveal my “secrets” to them,” she finished. “It’s all rather tedious and predictable.”

John absently sipped at his cold tea and nodded his head. 

“That tea must be crap now. Cold and tasteless,” Addie said.

“It is actually. Disgusting,” he answered.

“And yet, you’re still drinking it,” she said.

“Yep,” John answered.

“Because you’ve nothing better to do.”

“Yep.”

“Well, you might as well get comfortable and find something else to do. Knowing those two, we could be here a while,” she said, grabbing a magazine from the table and reclining on the loveseat.

John grabbed the newspaper off the table and began flipping through it. He abandoned his cup of crap tea and was now idly perusing the headlines.

Addie broke the silence once again, lowering her magazine to peer over the top of it. “So how is it?” she asked. “Living with Sherlock?”

“It’s…it’s rather interesting,” he replied.

“That’s putting it nicely,” Addie snorted. “Come on John, you can be real with me. I lived with him practically my whole life. I know what he’s like.”

“Ok then. Living with Sherlock is madness. It’s infuriating and frustrating at times. He never cleans up, he’s always making a mess, and those experiments! The things he stashes in the pantry, good lord!” John exclaimed.

Addie chuckled and shook her head. “Ahh, his experiments. Those are fun aren’t they?”

“If that’s what you want to call them,” John answered.

“He used to let me help him when we were younger. Loved to teach me all about science and the amazing things you can find in the mundane. I stopped helping him though, after a few years.” Addie said.

“Why? What happened?” John asked.

“He used my favorite Barbie doll as his test subject. I came home from school to a melted and singe-haired toy lying on my bed. I cried hysterically for hours and refused to be his assistant ever again.”

John couldn’t help but chuckle. Addie fixed him with a patented Holmes glare. “It’s not funny!” John was still failing to hide his amusement. 

“Well I guess it kind of is. Sounds a bit ridiculous too when you say it out loud.”

“Sibling rivalry traced back to a melted Barbie doll? Sounds pretty ridiculous to me,” John laughed.

“Well, to Sherlock’s credit, he did buy me a new doll for Christmas that year, so I couldn’t stay mad at him for long.”

“He does that a lot doesn’t he? Makes you angry then goes and redeems himself to the point where you are angry that you just can’t be angry at him anymore,” John said, smiling.  


Addie laughed and looked at John again. She could tell by the wistful look in his eyes that Sherlock had definitely found a way to break into his guarded heart and gain a bit of his trust.

Addie shifted on the loveseat and yawned. The magazine came to rest on her chest and she continued to study John.

“So, John, do you have any siblings?” she asked.

“Yes actually. A sister. Harry…er, Harriet. She’s older than me. Likes to go by Harry. She’s a…umm…”

“A lesbian,” Addie finished for him.

“Well, yes. Harry and I were never really close. Not because of her…preferences. Just because of our personalities. We couldn’t be more opposite really. I remember, one time when we were younger…”

Addie was listening to John’s story with vague interest. Her desire for sleep winning out over talking with John. Her eyes were battling with her to stay closed and let her rest and she was fighting it with all she had. It was a losing battle though and her exhaustion won out, pulling her into a peaceful sleep.

“And then I said, ‘Harry, if you ever mess with my stuff again, I’ll tell mum all about your lunchtime escapades with Linda.’ You should have seen her face! Never seen her so scared!” John finished, laughing, looking to Addie for her reaction.

He was met with a snoring and sleeping Addie, sprawled out on the loveseat, hand dangling to the floor, magazine lying open on her chest. John smiled and shook his head as he picked up the newspaper and started reading.

A short time later Mycroft’s door opened and both brothers came through.

“Addie! We’ve reached a decision and nothing you say will change it. We’ve decided…” Sherlock was cut off by a loud “Shhh!” from John.

He looked curiously at where John was pointing and saw Addie sleeping on the loveseat. Mycroft chuckled from behind him and shook his head.

“Still stubborn as always. Refuses to give in until she can’t fight it anymore.”

“I knew she was exhausted. I mean, you saw the state of her. She looked ready to drop any moment,” Sherlock said.

All three men were silent, staring at Addie and not knowing where to go from here.

“She sure knows how to ruin a good conflict. Didn’t even get to use my “big brother” voice,” Sherlock said trying to sound mad but failing. The affectionate smile on his face betraying his annoyance.

“Well, it’s been a long day for all of us. Best be getting home and resting ourselves,” Mycroft said. He walked over, removed the magazine, and placed it on the table before carefully and gently lifting Addie into his arms. He walked out of the room while Sherlock and John followed.

Mycroft continued to gently carry Addie out to the car that was waiting outside. John crawled in, followed by Sherlock and Mycroft set Addie down next to him, careful not to jostle her too much. Sherlock grabbed her arm to steady her and allowed her head to come to a rest on his shoulder.

John thought it very odd to see the Holmes brothers being so gentle, caring, and…human. But as much as it confused him and surprised him, he found it strangely fitting. Just two men looking out for their younger sister, quite possibly the only one with the ability to crack their cold demeanors. He decided that if he had to have anyone looking out for him, he’d sure as hell want it to be the Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes.  
\----------------------------------------


	4. Chapter 4

Addie awoke groggily, groaning as she opened her eyes to the harsh light coming through the window. She took a moment to get her bearings before she lifted her head to look around. The grogginess had faded a bit and she took in her surroundings. She was on a sofa, a union jack pillow under her head and a hideous orange blanket draped over her. She looked up to see Sherlock reading the newspaper in the chair across from her.

Addie groaned and plopped back down on the pillow. “Oh, great.”

“Well good morning to you too. How’d you sleep?” Sherlock asked from behind the paper.

Addie shot him a half-hearted glare which he couldn’t see from behind his paper but he chuckled cheekily anyways.

“So now that you’re back in the land of the living, what do you say we go check out your room?”

She was still a bit hazy and hadn’t moved from her spot on the couch. She had no intention of looking at her room, since she had no intention of staying there at all. She figured she had to move though if she was going to make a break for a taxi to take her back to her flat. She sat up slowly and extricated herself from the blanket.

“Why do I have this hideous orange blanket on?” she asked.

“Oh that. It’s a shock blanket. Stole it from a crime scene a few months ago. It’s really quite warm,” he answered, putting the paper down.

She gave him a weird look and pushed the blanket away. “Ok then, this has been fun. But now that I’m feeling better, I really must be getting back to my flat,” she said.

“It’s empty,” Sherlock replied.

Addie stopped mid-rise from the couch and went still. “What?” she asked.

“Your flat. It’s empty. All your stuff is here. No need to go running back to get anything. Rather convenient don’t you think?” Sherlock answered.

She sat back down on the couch and put her head in her hands. “There’s no getting out of this is there?” she asked.

“Nope!” Sherlock said matter-of-factly.

“So I have the flat next door? There are no secret passageways or anything where you’re going to show up in the middle of the night or something?” Addie asked.

“Why would I go to your room in the middle of the night?” Sherlock asked seriously.

“Nevermind,” she rolled her eyes. “Hey, where’s John?”

“He’s at work. Had this ridiculous notion to go work at the hospital. Something about idle hands and earning money. Sounds dull.”

“Right.”

“Why do you care anyways? You hardly know John,” asked Sherlock.

“Oh, we had a nice little chat last night while you and Mycroft were busy plotting…I mean talking for hours,” Addie answered.

“Hmmm…boring!”

“Whatever. I’m going to my flat. See you…hopefully not soon,” she said standing up.

Sherlock didn’t even acknowledge her leaving the room as he sat at his computer looking for a case. He heard her leave and walk down the hall. He heard her open the door next to their flat and walk inside. He predicted how long it would take for her to realize it. 

3, 2, 1…

“SHERLOCK!!”

He smirked as he heard her stomping her way back into his flat. He looked up as she entered and gave her an uninterested look. “Yes?” he drawled.

“What the HELL is that?” she asked, gesturing wildly at the room down the hall.

“That’s your flat. You don’t like it?” Sherlock asked.

“That is NOT a flat! It’s barely a room! Mycroft said 221C. A flat next door. That isn’t a flat,” Addie yelled.

“Oh right. That. Seems 221C was deemed unlivable. Some kind of structural damage. Luckily Mrs. Hudson was able to open up the bedroom since it isn’t technically attached to the rest of the flat,” Sherlock explained.

“What did you do?!”

“I’m offended that you think I had anything to do with this,” Sherlock huffed.

Addie folded her arms and shot him a scathing look. “So, what? Now I have to live with you guys? Like literally live with you? Like share a kitchen, sitting room, and all your ruddy experiments?”

Sherlock didn’t acknowledge her and went back to looking for cases.

“That “flat” better come with its own bathroom because there is no way in hell I am sharing a bathroom with you two!”

“Oh god, no! Of course it comes with its own bathroom. I’d never share with you!” Sherlock replied, still perusing his website.

“Well good. It’s not a total loss then. Now I’m off to shower in my own bathroom and unpack. Don’t bother me,” Addie said before turning and leaving the room.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Sherlock said typing away.  
_______________________

John came home a few hours later looking exhausted and peevish. The patients were relentless and he hardly got two minutes to use the bathroom before he had another patient to take care of. He was in need of a very strong cup of tea, a nice long shower, and his comfy armchair to collapse into.

He walked into the living room and saw Sherlock sprawled out on the sofa looking annoyed. He clearly hadn’t moved from his spot for several hours.

John greeted Sherlock with a “hello” and received a grunt in response. He made his way to the kitchen to fix himself some tea. With his long awaited cup of tea in his hand, John shuffled over to his armchair and collapsed onto it. He was savoring his drink when he noticed the flat was strangely quiet and the feeling that something was missing.

“Sherlock, where’s Addie?” he asked.

Sherlock didn’t move a muscle or even turn to look at him as he responded, “In her room, obviously.”

“Well, has she been out recently?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care,” was the response.

“Ah, I see. She saw the state of her flat then?” John asked.

“Yes and as usual her reaction was extremely overdramatic and uncalled for. She’s been sulking in her room ever since,” Sherlock said.

“And you’ve been sulking out here,” John said.

Sherlock finally turned to John and glared at him. “I am not sulking! I’m just bored. And Addie won’t come out so I can deduce her and get her all annoyed. She’s no fun, really.”

“Did you try going to her room to talk to her?” John suggested.

“Too much effort.”

“Right then. I’ll leave you to your non-sulking,” John said, rising from his chair.

“Where are you going?” Sherlock asked.

“I’m off to have a shower. Some of us normal people have been at work all day and need to relax,” John replied.

“Dull,” Sherlock said.

John rolled his eyes and walked out of the room towards the bathroom. He contemplated knocking on Addie’s door to check on her, but his sore muscles won out and he continued on his way. Plus, Addie and Sherlock were adults. Let them handle it themselves like civilized, mature grown-ups. Though he highly doubted that to happen with these two.

John emerged ten minutes later feeling refreshed and ready to take on the two Holmes siblings and their bad moods. What he was not prepared for was the sound of bullets firing from the living room.

He was out of his room in a flash, nearly bumping into Addie on the way. They both scrambled into the room in a panic.

“What the hell is going on?” John roared when he saw the scene. Sherlock was lying on the sofa looking straight ahead as he fired bullet after bullet into the wall opposite him.

“Sherlock for god’s sake, put the gun down! Do you want someone to call the police?” Addie yelled over the sound.

“Oh don’t be silly, no one’s going to call the police,” Sherlock scoffed at her.

“Well, would you like to explain what’s going on then?” John asked.

“I’m bored,” Sherlock whined.

Addie rolled her eyes at her brother’s childish response. “And I suppose firing bullets into a bright yellow smiley face is working wonders to alleviate the boredom?”

“It is actually. In my mind it keeps changing from Mycroft’s face to yours. Helping me let out all my frustrations,” Sherlock replied.

“Whatever,” Addie scoffed.

“Ok, well as wonderful as it is to have you relieve your frustrations, can we do it in a more civilized way that doesn’t involve, I don’t know, blasting holes in the wall?!” John yelled.

“Fine,” Sherlock replied, dropping the gun to the floor.

“Great, now he’s going to sulk the rest of the day,” Addie groaned.

“I am not sulking!” Sherlock yelled, his anger cut short at the sound of his phone.

He immediately jumped up and checked it. “Yes!” he shouted, springing to his feet in glee.

“Lestrade’s got a case. Murder, disappearance, mysterious symbols. Sounds thrilling!” He was now frantically running around the room gathering his things to leave any moment.

John sighed, glad he took the time to shower and relax for a bit as he grabbed his coat too. Addie was already standing in the entry way waiting for them to follow her downstairs.

Sherlock paused in his flurry of activity and stopped beside Addie in the doorway. “What are you doing?”

“I’m waiting for you slow pokes to get a move on so we can go to this case,” she replied.

“What makes you think you get to tag along?” he says giving her a scrutinizing look.

“Oh come on Sherlock, I’ve worked cases before too. I know what I’m doing.”

“Nope. Sorry. No room in the cab.”

“You’re being completely ridiculous! I’m coming on this case.”

“Hmmm…no!”

Addie nearly screamed in frustration. “Don’t make me call Mycroft!” 

”You really think he’ll side with you on this?” Sherlock laughed.

She stared him down for a good few seconds, giving him her best death glare. “I said. I’m going,” she said, eerily calm.

“And I said no,” Sherlock replied, returning her glare and using his best “big brother means business” voice.

Once again John was caught in the awkward in-between with the Holmes siblings. The tension was making him uneasy but something told him he might as well get used to it all.

The tension was finally broken by Addie’s phone going off. She looked at it and smirked, shouting a triumphant “Ha!”

She shoved the text in Sherlock’s face, showing him the message from Lestrade telling her to get down to the crime scene as soon as possible. She reveled in her victory as she snatched up her coat and made for the stairs.

“Can’t argue with Scotland Yard,” she said walking away. 

John looked to Sherlock and noticed him trying his best to conceal his rage towards his little sister. He found himself glad he’d snatched up Sherlock’s gun from the floor earlier.


	5. Chapter 5

They pulled up to the scene and saw Lestrade, Donovan, and Anderson gathered around talking. Sherlock, as usual was the one out of the cab first, his long coat swishing behind him dramatically. Addie climbed out and immediately started taking in the situation. It must be more than just an average killing if so many police and detectives were around. She was brought out of her head by a shout.

“Oi! Carson!” Oh, Lestrade. “Where have you been? Just up and disappeared for a bit. Never answered your phone.”

“Oh hi sir. Yeah, sorry about that. My phone must be going faulty. Need to have it checked out,” she said, shooting Sherlock an annoyed look.

Lestrade followed her gaze and looked to Sherlock. “Oh, you two working together then? I knew you two had a lot in common.” He remarked.

“More than you know,” Sherlock replied cheekily.

“Alright then?” Lestrade asked Addie, turning back to face her. “Seemed in a big hurry when you left.”

“Yes, I’m fine. Just had a bit of family business to take care of. But it’s alright. Nothing that can’t be dealt with on my downtime,” she replied.

Sherlock gave a scoff and a laugh. Lestrade looked to him slightly puzzled before focusing back on Addie.

“Anyways Carson, we’ve got a bit of a difficult one for you. You see…”

Sherlock cut him off, “You know Lestrade, if she’s going to continue working with us, you might as well address her by her real name.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked. 

No answer. 

Lestrade focused on John instead, “What is he talking about?”

John sighed knowing Sherlock wasn’t going to bother trying to explain it to Lestrade’s feeble mind.

“It seems to be that Ms. Carson isn’t in fact who she says she is,” John explained.

“Ok…then who is she?” Lestrade asked.

“Well, her name is Addie, first of all, not Andie.”

“Oh great, have I been saying it wrong all this time? And you never corrected me? That’s embarrassing,” Lestrade said.

Sherlock, getting sick of all the back and forth and the guessing, decided to come out and say it. “No Lestrade, you haven’t been saying it wrong, well, technically you have, but let’s get to the point shall we?”

Lestrade nodded at him. 

“Her name is not Andrea Carson, or “Andie” as you so affectionately call her. Her name is Adelaide. Or Addie as she prefers. And she’s not “working” with me as you so put it. And the family problems she speaks of do in fact involve everyone here,” Sherlock explained.

“What are you on about?” Lestrade was getting annoyed now.

“Her name is Adelaide Holmes. Holmes. H-O-L-M-E-S. Holmes. She’s my sister, as much as I loathe to admit it,” Sherlock said.

“You mean there’s more than one of you freaks?” Donovan piped up from behind them.

“Three to be exact. We have a brother named Mycroft,” Addie said.

“I knew there was something too similar about you two! I recognized it when I first met her. Reminded me too much of you,” Lestrade said, smiling triumphantly. “Makes sense now.”

“Yes, well, as enlightening as this revelation has been, shall we get on with the case?” Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow.

He and John started to follow Lestrade into the building. Addie made to follow them before she was stopped by Donovan.

“You really related to him?” she asked her.

“Yes,” Addie replied.

Donovan looked at her sympathetically. “I’m so sorry,” she said.

Addie smirked and accepted her condolences for having Sherlock as a brother.

“I think I like her,” she exclaimed after Sherlock and John. Sherlock said nothing and continued into the building.

Addie immediately started her deductions, taking in every detail about the place, but mostly reading the people on the scene. A police officer in his mid-forties, unsatisfied with his job, marital problems, drowns his sorrows in packages of sugar donuts judging by his wide frame. Another officer, early 50s, devoted father and husband, working a late shift and no doubt missing an important family event judging by the way he keeps looking at his watch. Newbie officer: first case and first crime scene; extremely over-excited and eager to please, trying to impress his female colleague and hoping to get lucky tonight. Security guard at the door: shifty eyes and bruised knuckles, which isn’t unusual in his profession, but it also isn’t likely he gets much action at this boring museum. He has to know something.

Lestrade approached them and waited for Sherlock and Addie to finish their observations. “Anyone worth questioning or are we wasting our time?” he asked.

“The security guard,” both Addie and Sherlock replied at the same time. They gave each other calculating looks before turning back to John and Lestrade, who looked lost once again.

“The security guard? But he’s way over there. How’d you get anything from him?” John asked.

“His knuckles are bruised, which isn’t completely unusual, but being a museum security guard, he isn’t likely to get much action. Plus he mostly patrols the cars and the ticket booth, hardly a center of violent activity,” Addie answered.

“Also, he’s standing awkwardly, favoring his right side to alleviate the pressure on his bruised knee. Whatever he encountered was more than just your average annoyed customer waiting in too long of a queue. He saw a different kind of action in the past 12 hours and he hasn’t yet recovered from it,” Sherlock finished.

Lestrade looked back and forth between the two of them. “My god, you really are related,” he said. “And you say he’s worth questioning because he’s standing awkwardly on his right side?”

“Obviously,” Sherlock and Addie replied again, in unison. 

“You know, we really need to stop doing that,” Addie said turning to Sherlock. He nodded back at her.

“So, shall you take the security guard then?” Lestrade asked Addie.

“Nah, Sherlock can handle him. I’ve got the lanky records keeper in the corner,” she replied.

“Alright, I’m off to talk to the police. Let me know what you find out,” Lestrade said, walking away.

“You aren’t going to question the security guard?” John asked. “I thought you did all the questioning at the scenes?”

Sherlock said nothing, studying her with a peculiar look.

“I do, but the kid in the corner looks like he saw something too. He’d be easier to question than the security guard, who isn’t going anywhere for a while. This records keeper might bail soon. Plus, he finds me attractive, which would work to my advantage,” Addie said.

Sherlock scoffed at her.

“What? He’s not allowed to find me attractive? It’s been known to happen, Sherlock,” she said, irritated. “Oh, it’s not that, is it? You doubt my abilities to get him to talk. Well, watch and see big brother.” And with that she walked off towards the skinny kid in the corner.

Sherlock and John watched as she shyly approached the boy and started making casual conversation. Soon the two were laughing and chatting with each other, Addie not being overtly flirtatious, but clearly putting on the moves to influence him to open up more. 

“Wow, she really is quite good isn’t she?” John said, looking to Sherlock.

Sherlock hadn’t moved from his spot and his eyes never left Addie. He looked puzzled and slightly disconcerted. 

“Sherlock, what’s wrong?” John asked.

“It’s nothing. I’ve just never seen her like this before. I mean, in this situation. It’s just…odd,” he answered.

“I can imagine it would be pretty weird to witness your little sister being such a flirtatious young woman. I’d be a little freaked out myself,” John said.

“See, that’s the thing John. You said “woman.” Which is entirely correct given the fact that she is 24-years-old and she is well past the age of being considered a child, but I still find it…odd,” he said.

“Ah, I see. Can’t quite grasp the fact that she’s not a little girl anymore? She was, what, 18 when she “died” if my math is correct? Hardly just entered adulthood. Still a child really. And now seeing her as a woman is difficult to understand. She’ll always be a little girl in your eyes won’t she?” John said, looking to Sherlock.

Sherlock gave him an unreadable look and scoffed as he turned and walked away. John shook his head and smiled fondly. As stubborn as the Holmes family was turning out to be, there was no doubt he was enjoying their company. Living with them was exciting and unpredictable, and it sure as hell beat a normal 9 to 5 work day and a lonely flat to come home to.  
\---------------------


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks for all the kudos and reviews! I really appreciate it, and I'm glad people are enjoying it so far. I hope you continue to enjoy it as the story progresses. I have a lot of this written already, so I basically just have to read over the chapter and make some edits if necessary, so hopefully I can update frequently. Provided I remember to. Relying on my memory may not be the best course of action, but let's hope it works, lol. Thanks again for the encouragement! Hope you enjoy this chapter!  
______________________________________

Chapter 6

There was nothing more they could do at the museum for the time being, so Sherlock, John and Addie loaded into a cab to go back home and put the pieces together. The cab was silent as Sherlock and Addie were lost in their minds. They were brought out of their thoughts by John’s phone going off.

“Oh crap! I was supposed to go into St. Bart’s today! I completely lost track of time,” John said, rubbing his hand over his face.

Sherlock didn’t look all that sympathetic but he decided to help John out this time. “Well, I have to go observe the bodies anyways, you can do your doctor thing while we’re in the morgue.”

“Really? You’ll wait for me to be done?” John asked.

“As long as you don’t take a ridiculously long time,” Sherlock answered.

“Wow, thanks.”

Addie smiled discreetly. She knew Sherlock would have never done that for anyone he didn’t care about. Seems John Watson had begun to bring Sherlock’s feelings to the surface. She hoped it would continue, considering just how deep those feelings were buried in him.

Sherlock told the cab driver to go to St. Bart’s instead and they settled back into their silence.

“You know,” Addie began. “It’s funny.”

“Oh do please enlighten us about what’s so funny,” Sherlock said in a bored tone.

“It’s funny that you still wear that scarf.”

“What’s wrong with my scarf?” Sherlock asked defensively.

“Nothing. It’s just…you don’t remember do you?” 

“Obviously not,” Sherlock answered.

“I gave you that scarf. For Christmas. The last one we had before…you know…Thought you had forgotten about it and tossed it out. You made a point to mention how ‘utterly repulsive’ it was.” She said, doing her best Sherlock voice.

“I did. Forget about it, that is. I happened to need a warm scarf one day and all of my others were dirty. I had no choice but to use this one. As repulsive as it is,” he said.

“Sherlock, you wear that scarf every day. You have for as long as I’ve known you,” John said.

Sherlock shot him a patented Holmes scowl and silently told him to shut up. Addie looked smug and satisfied with John’s comment.

“So you didn’t find it as repulsive as you said,” Addie smiled.

“Don’t be ridiculous, the scarf serves the purpose of keeping my neck warm. Even if it is repulsive it’s better than a cold neck,” Sherlock replied.

“Sure it is…” Addie teased.

Sherlock looked ready to fire back at her when the cab came to a stop.

“Oh look, we’re here. Everybody out. Thank you,” John paid the cab driver and slid out, waiting for Addie and Sherlock.

“Alright so, I’ll be up on the 3rd floor. Patients ward. I’ll meet you back in the morgue when I’m done?” John asked.

Sherlock grunted in response and turned on his heel to go find Molly, leaving John and Addie behind. 

John turned to Addie with an exasperated look. “He’s just sulking. He’ll come around.”

“I know. He gets like that. Like a bloody child sometimes. We’ll be alright. Good luck with your patients. I’ll do my best not to make Sherlock too angry and hopefully by the time you get to the morgue there won’t be any new bodies to deal with,” she gave a big smile then walked off after Sherlock.

Addie approached the door to the morgue and knocked tentatively. She wasn’t sure if Sherlock was in there or not. He’d said that’s where he was going, but with Sherlock you never know.

The door opened a crack and a young woman with ginger hair peeked out. 

“Oh, umm, I’m sorry, only authorized personnel are allowed in here,” she said awkwardly.

“I’m sorry, I was just looking for someone. He said he’d be down here in the morgue. Do you know a man named Sherlock?” Addie asked.

“Sherlock?” the woman asked. “You know Sherlock?”

“Yeah, I’m here with him. He kind of just disappeared on me. Is he here?” Addie asked.

“Molly, it’s alright, you can let her in. She’s with me,” she heard Sherlock’s voice.

Molly opened the door for her and let her in. She eyed Addie suspiciously and asked cautiously. “So, you’re with Sherlock then?”

Addie pulled up a stool across from Sherlock. “Yes, unfortunately,” She answered.

“Unfortunately? You’re not happy to be with Sherlock?” Molly asked.

Addie gave her a strange look and looked to Sherlock. “I’m sorry. We weren’t properly introduced. Molly, is it?”

“Yeah, Molly Hooper,” she stuck out her hand.

“I’m Adelaide. Adelaide Holmes. But you can call me Addie. Pleasure,” she said returning the hand shake.

“Addie Holmes…oh, you’re related to Sherlock,” Molly stated.

“Excellent observation Molly,” Sherlock said sarcastically.

“I’m Sherlock’s sister. I work with him…sort of,” Addie explained.

“Oh, so you’re here with him to help with the case. You’re not “with” him,” Molly said.

“Yeah….” Addie said awkwardly.

Molly, now realizing that Addie isn’t a threat or “involved” with Sherlock is relieved, but also now embarrassed to have been so suspicious in the first place.

“Well, I’m off to get some coffee and crisps. Anybody want anything? No? Ok,” Molly said shuffling out.

“Well that was awkward,” Addie said.

Sherlock snorted but continued staring at his microscope. 

“She fancies you, you know,” Addie stated.

Sherlock looked up from his work and gave her a confused look. “No she doesn’t."

Addie scoffed. “You know Sherlock, for a genius, you really are dense sometimes.”

“How do you know she fancies me?” he asked.

“Please Sherlock, it’s me. How do you think I know?”

Sherlock went back to his microscope. 

“Once she’d eliminated me as a threat she was much more relieved and accepting. Really, Sherlock, it’s right in front of your nose. You simply need to observe,” she teased him.

Sherlock was about to retort when Molly came back through the door with drinks and crisps. “I thought I’d bring some food anyways. We could be here a while,” she smiled sweetly and set a cup of coffee in front of Sherlock. “Two sugars right?”

Sherlock nodded and thanked her. Addie shot him a look and raised her eyebrow. He ignored her.

Molly walked away to tend to other things, knowing that Sherlock liked his space and his silence.

“So, found anything else?” Addie asked.

“Not much. I’m sampling the hair for DNA and comparing it to the samples I got at the crime scene. No matches so far though,” Sherlock said.

“Do you need help? Because I could. Help that is,” Addie said.

“Finally over the Barbie doll incident are we?” Sherlock asked cheekily.

“Yeah well, you replaced her so I guess all’s forgiven,” Addie replied.

Sherlock looked up and smiled at her. A sincere smile. Not his signature smirk or his condescending twitch of his lips. A real genuine smile he reserves for only certain people. Addie had yet to see it since she “came back” and she realized how much she missed it.

He handed her a plastic bag and she took it from him gently. “Here, you can test the residue on the clothing. See if you can identify the substance.”

“Aye Aye, Captain!” She saluted him.

He laughed and saluted back. “Try not to mess up. Need to make sure you haven’t gotten rusty in your ‘absence.’”

She threw a crisp at him and he dodged it and went back to his microscope. He then lodged his own crisp at her and it bounced off her head “Oi! Watch it! I’m working here!” she teased. 

Sherlock was just extracting the sample he tested when Addie’s crisp hit him on his nose. “Ten points!” she shouted.

An hour later John entered the morgue to find Addie and Sherlock sharing a microscope, engaged in an intense experiment, the table around them littered with crisps.  
_________________


	7. Chapter 7

Sorry for taking forever to update! Things have been busy lately with preparing for students to come back to school and my own classes starting up again this week. plus it was my birthday on Thursday so things were put aside for that. Anyways, enough excuses, hope you all enjoy Chapter 7!  
____________________________

John sat in a stool at the lab quietly talking with Molly. Neither of them wanted to disturb Addie, and especially Sherlock, in their research. 

“They’re creepily alike, those two,” Molly remarked.

“Well, they are siblings,” John said cheekily.

Molly shot him an annoyed look. “No, I mean, it’s just weird that there are two of them. Pretty sure the world can barely handle one. Two might make it implode,” she joked.

John chuckled and agreed. “Yeah, they’re two peas in a pod. They’re always at it. Constantly. Feels like I should add “referee” to my resume. Stubborn gits."

“We can hear everything you’re saying. Neither of you possess the art of subtlety,” Sherlock said from across the room.

“And quite frankly, I’m offended,” Addie added. John and Molly looked guilty. “Saying I’m just like Sherlock, when everyone knows I’m the smarter Holmes.”

Sherlock outright laughed at that. Addie scowled and sent another crisp his way. Sherlock’s quick reflexes kicked in and he caught it mid-air before he chucked it back at her. 

It hit her in the eye. “Oww! Joooohn! Sherlock hit me in the eye with the crisp!” Addie whined.

Sherlock smirked and looked up innocently at John and Molly.

“If you two aren’t going to eat those then throw them away and get back to work,” John sighed.

“Yes, father,” mocked Sherlock.

Suddenly Addie’s text alert went off.

John is right. Stop behaving like children and focus on the case.  
\--MH

“Big brother is watching us,” Addie said, mixing her substances in a test tube. She texted back.

Isn’t this some kind of invasion of privacy? Not to mention it’s downright creepy.  
\--AH

Another text alert.

It’s not creepy, it’s protective.  
\--MH

Addie made a face at the phone and set it down.

I saw that.  
\--MH

Addie, more than a little freaked out, pushed the phone far away from her in a hurry.

“So, what have you two accomplished so far? Other than making a complete mess of the lab?” John asked.

“The DNA found on the sleeve of the dead scientist, matches that of the museum manager. Most likely he was annoyed about the fame the scientist was getting and felt as if he was due his own share of fame considering he’s the one who gave the scientist his big break. A case of juvenile jealousy,” Sherlock said.

“What did the security guard say?” John asked.

“Nothing much. He was an idiot. Got his injuries from a bar fight the night before. I believed him. He’s too stupid to be involved somehow,” Sherlock answered.

“So the manager killed the scientist out of envy, so he could start getting the money and fame he felt he deserved?” Molly asked.

“Exactly.”

“There might be more to it though,” Addie began.

Sherlock whirled around to face her, a shocked and angry look on his face.

“The records keeper told me that the manager had been spending a lot of time with the secretary. At first he though they were seeing each other, but then he said he saw them exchanging information with each other often. He didn’t mention it, but I’m sure the manager was paying the secretary to spy on the scientist. The secretary, being in a position that involves the passing and handling of information would be the perfect accomplice, seeing as how no one would be suspicious of a secretary’s desk covered with papers and notes and no one would look twice at what those notes contained,” Addie said.

“Wow. So the manager and the secretary were in on it together? And all this time their plans for the murder were right under everyone’s noses?” John said.

“Yep.”

“Brilliant! I’ll go contact Lestrade,” John said walking out of the room.

“So did you find all this out before or after you seduced the poor records keeper?” Sherlock asked. “Nice to know you come to your deductions by such honest means.”

“No need to be bitter, Sherlock,” Addie retorted. “And you’re one to talk. It was you who taught me to act and lie to get the information I need.”

“Yes, well, I’m so lucky to have your talents assisting me on my cases.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous. You’re jealous and annoyed that you didn’t figure it all out for yourself.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I am neither bitter nor jealous,” Sherlock scoffed.

“Fine. Just don’t go hiring a secretary to plan my murder with,” Addie joked.

“Oops, too late,” Sherlock replied.

John walked back in closing his phone. “Lestrade is pleased. I told him to arrest the manager and the secretary. He gives his thanks to the ‘Holmes duo’ as he calls you.”

“Uggh, is he going to refer to us as that from now on?” Addie asked.

“It is revolting, not to mention insulting,” Sherlock said.

“He seemed to like it. I think it’s rather funny,” John said.

“You would,” said Addie rolling her eyes.

John ignored her and began gathering up the empty crisp bags. “Well, are we done here? Can we finally go back to the flat?”

Sherlock nodded and started putting away the equipment with the help of Molly.

“Addie can clean up the crisps. She started this little idiotic food fight,” Sherlock said.

“Hey! You participated, thus contributing to the mess,” Addie replied.

“Someone just clean up the bloody crisps so we can go home,” John sighed.

“Fine!” Addie began clearing the crumbs and sweeping them into the trash, grumbling and cursing Sherlock the whole time.

At the door John thanked Molly and shook her hand. Addie also thanked her and nodded. She elbowed Sherlock then gestured towards Molly. Sherlock rolled his eyes but thanked Molly all the same. Molly looked positively elated to have been thanked by Sherlock and she closed the lab door dreamily.

__________________________

The next morning at 221B and 221B and a half, as Addie liked to refer to her room, all was quiet and content. Sherlock was in his room, either sleeping or on his website, the latter the more likely of the two. John was sleeping most definitely judging by the snores she could hear coming from upstairs.

Addie was extremely bored in her room so she decided to walk around the flat and see if there was anything to do. She wandered around 221B, not encountering much besides a bookshelf, some magazines and newspapers, Sherlock’s annoying experiments, and his violin sitting on its stand. She contemplated picking it up and trying to play it, but she didn’t particularly fancy being killed, so she kept walking by. Finding nothing to satisfy her boredom she wandered into the kitchen to grab a snack, hoping that John had the sense to do the shopping because she knew Sherlock wouldn’t.

She opened the fridge and nearly screamed at the sight of a human head staring back at her. She closed her eyes and quickly closed the door.

“It’s quite disturbing isn’t it,” she heard a voice behind her say.

Addie jumped and turned toward the voice.

“Oh, I’m sorry dear. Did I startle you?” an elderly woman asked her, a sweet smile on her face.

“No, I’m fine,” Addie said shaking her head. “I don’t think we’ve officially met yet. I’m Adelaide. You’re Mrs. Hudson I presume.”

“Yes, I am Mrs. Hudson. Pleasure to meet you Adelaide. Or Addie, is it? Your brother mentioned you prefer Addie.”

“Which brother?”

“The proper one who carries the brolly,” Mrs. Hudson replied.

“Ah, Mycroft.”

“So, you’re the housekeeper then?” Addie asked, watching Mrs. Hudson unload groceries into the cupboards and the fridge.

“Not your housekeeper dear, just the landlady.”

“Well, not many landladies would go buy us groceries,” Addie said helping her put everything away.

“Poor John looked too exhausted to do it earlier, so I stole the list from his desk and decided to do it for him. Someone has got to look after you three,” Mrs. Hudson smiled.

Addie returned the smile.

Sherlock walked into the kitchen in his pajamas and dressing gown and started fumbling around for some milk and biscuits. “Did you buy the raspberry scones this time?” he asked.

“You’re welcome Sherlock,” Mrs. Hudson shot back at him. “I was just having a chat with your lovely sister here. Such a charming young girl.”

Addie smiled at Sherlock haughtily. 

“There’s no need to be so falsely kind Mrs. Hudson. You don’t need to flatter her,” Sherlock replied, biting his scone.

“Awww, Sherlock, you don’t think I’m lovely and charming? I’m hurt!” Addie said placing her hand on her chest.

Mrs. Hudson smirked at their banter, but something in the living room caught her eye. “Sherlock Holmes! What are these holes doing in the wall?!” she exclaimed, leaving the kitchen to get a better look. 

Addie and Sherlock exchanged nervous glances. “Hey, this is all on you big brother,” she said before backing further into the kitchen.

“This will be coming out of your rent young man!”

Addie snickered at him from the other side of the table.

Mrs. Hudson reappeared to finish putting the groceries away. She took a large bottle out of the bag and placed it on the counter. 

“I got you a little something extra. Thought you might enjoy it on the off hours that you are home and relaxing. The man at the store called it the best wine in London,” she said.

Sherlock actually looked appreciative and smiled at her as a thank you. Addie took the bottle and looked at it.

“Thanks Mrs. Hudson. I’m sure we’ll enjoy it very much,” she said.

“Who says you’re getting any?” Sherlock asked raising an eyebrow.

“You know you look like Mycroft when you do that,” Addie said. Sherlock looked disgusted and immediately wiped the Mycroft look off his face. “And, I’ll have you know, I am more than of age to drink alcohol Sherlock.”

“I bought it for all three of you. Be sure to share,” Mrs. Hudson said, giving Sherlock a pointed look.

“We’ll see. If she behaves I might let her have some.” Sherlock warned.

“What are you, my mummy?”

“Why? Do you need one?”

Addie was about to tell Sherlock exactly what she needed and what he could do with it when Mrs. Hudson interjected.

“Well, that’s it for me. I’ll be off. Play nice dears,” she said walking out of the kitchen.  
___________________________


End file.
